Above K’uei-chou’s wall, a cloud-form village. Below:
wind-tossed sheets of falling rain, a swollen river

Thrashing in the gorge. Thunder and lightning battle.
Kingfisher-gray trees and ashen ivy shroud sun and moon.

War horses can’t compare to those back in quiet pastures.
But of a thousand homes, a bare hundred remain. Ai–

Ai–the widow beaten by life’s toll, grief-torn,
Sobbing in what village where on the autumn plain?

translated by DAvid Hinton